


The King's Folly

by MiscellaneousShenanigans



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Classical Music, Consensual Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiscellaneousShenanigans/pseuds/MiscellaneousShenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've all heard the generic fairy tale. Handsome prince falls in love with the beautiful princess, sweeps her off her feet, a cliche musical proposition of love. All of this in the span of a week after defeating the arch nemesis that stands in the way of their eternal love that was meant to be. The ending is always sunshine and rainbows and happily ever after. </p><p>You know, true romance and all that shit. Suffice it to say, this is not such a tale of jubilation. Rather, this tale spins in a direction as far from sunshine and rainbows as worldly possible. Sure, there's handsome royalty; a king, even. But what are kingly looks worth if they only doll up the monster within?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfiction of anything ever. It will be slow moving, but I have the entire thing all planned out. I just have to write it around work and life things. But! I will try and update at least once or twice a month. No promises, but I will appreciate any constructive (kind) feedback. More tags and characters will be added as this progresses; mature rating at first, will most likely change. 
> 
> I took some liberties with this (read: fiction) to where Grisha Jaeger is not horrible, Carla Jeager is not dead and Levi has a last name and parents, gasp! This is set in France in the early 1700's, so there is some French mixed in. Simple phrases, but if you want me to leave translations at the end of a chapter I can. I'm also using 'Rivaille' instead of 'Levi' to stick with the French theme, so if that bothers you I'm sorry. I strongly recommend listening to the 'Baroque Classical' option on Pandora while reading. Also if you find any errors, grammar, spelling or other wise, please let me know. Big thanks to kiokushitaka for proofreading for me; go check out her fics!
> 
> For reference, I picture Levi looking a bit like this in this chapter, sans the flowers and veil: https://twitter.com/mongttriol2/status/433223416049438720/photo/1
> 
> Enjoy!

What does it mean to fight for love? Does it mean you physically maim and cause bodily harm to an individual in the name of love; your amour looking on in admiration of your strength? Or does it mean your heart and constitution are strong, determined to brave the elements before you, ambling by the obstacles thrown in your way? Many will argue this fact, and some will indeed even cause others harm in the name and for the sake of love. The irony of love is what drives many insane on the path to find it and many will perish or give up long before they can fully understand the completeness, the complete joy of loving another and being loved in return. 

What better a time and place, then to bring your path of discovery of love than in France? Romance and love are the daily bread and butter, and many would preach from the rafters of the importance of true love, or the pursuit of it. Even if you were a tourist, you could be easily infected by the spirit of love and the romantic notion of fighting the odds to obtain it, to covet it as yours. Not that being in love and feeling that warmth of another person is without pain and strife, as a bright eyed young man discovered in the early days of his youth. 

*

Having been born in Germany, Eren Jaeger had been transplanted to this foreign concept of French revolutionary love when his father, Grisha, had taken on the role of a doctor in one of the more influential villages of France. Eren and his mother, Carla, had adapted well to the culture, though Eren could do without all the doe-eyed girls in frilly dresses everywhere he went. 

It's not as if he had any lack of interest in love, but as an eight-year-old boy, it was the furthest thing from his mind. He was more concerned with finding friends and playing games or helping out his father in his clinic for some pocket money. His parents were very encouraging of him going about the city to explore and find his own entertainment after his mother had completed lessons for the day. Carla preferred to home-school Eren, as it was set that Eren would learn about and subsequently inherit his father's trade, to which Eren was more than eager to do. 

Fate does at times fancy pulling one towards a different destiny, usually far from what we have planned for ourselves. 

Eren had made friends with a boy from down the street named Jean and the two spent many an afternoon playing in the streets, or helping out the older ladies with their laundry in exchange for heavenly pâte à choux goodies. Jean's parents were tailors and their wares were worn by many of the aristocratic men and women who held court with the king and queen. It had been pure luck that Eren was able to find favor with the Kirschteins, as they were generally too busy to give the time of day to anyone other than an important client. However, once Carla had taken some stollen over for a traditional kaffeeklatsch one December afternoon, Mrs. Kirschtein had simply adored it. 

From then on, Eren and Jean were thick as thieves, eventually moving towards playing pranks on the fruit merchants; swapping around their displays when they weren't looking and laughing at their confused expressions. When Eren turned 10, that's when his father had decided to begin teaching him of his practice, and educate him on the importance of his research and treating his patients. Jean had also begun learning some of the tricks of the trade of his parents, as they saw fit to uphold their rich lineage of tailors, as their parents had done, insisting Jean keep the Kirschtein name alive and prosperous. Unlike Eren, who was keen to learn, Jean did not have the knack, or desire, to make clothes for those more fortunate than him and take on his parent's work. 

While it was exciting at first to discover new things and learn of the amazing medicines used in treating ailments, Eren soon grew bored with general teachings and would let his mind, and eyes, wander during lessons. 

*

As young boys do, Eren liked to traipse far beyond the boundaries his mother had set, warming not to go too far into the city for fear of him getting lost in the labyrinth that was Paris. Using a stick he had found to flick small rocks out of his way, he made his way down the cobblestone streets one Sunday afternoon. Springtime in Paris was truly a sight to behold. Typical spring weather was in full swing, a few fluffy white clouds, a slight breeze that promised of warmer weather on the horizon, birds chirping happily, and the sun that was-

"Trop putain lumineux..."

The sudden crude language made the small boy pause in his walk, his gaze alarmingly shifting to the boy- no, teenager currently holding a crate full of what appeared to be grapes. The boy had stepped out from under an awning and right into the blazing sunlight, which was cause for his cursing. Eren had only heard such foul language once or twice after he and Jean had stayed out too late and walked by a tavern on their way home, a man cursing the intensity of a sunset. Upon further inspection, after the initial shock wore off, Eren noticed the boy was not much taller than himself, though he was surely older. His eyes looked grumpy and tired, and his expression was one of sheer disdain for anything and everything. It was apparent the sudden brightness had caused some disorientation, so Eren stepped forward to try and assist the boy, tossing his stick to the side.

"Here, I got it, sir! Are you ok?" The question was innocent, as was his offer of help. However, the look he received in exchange for his bright smile was one of the foulest mood. Wrenching the crate away from the hands of the smaller boy with a huff, the teenager gave him a sneer.

"Brat, the day I need any help from you is the day I die." was the snide reply, followed by the teen hastily making his way down the road. Confusion quickly gave way to indignation and anger; how dare he think he could get away with that?! Never one much for decorum, though the French seemed to covet it, Eren charged after the dark haired boy, catching up and stopping right in front of him, earning him another withering glare.

"What's your problem? I was just trying to be nice, you don't have to be such a jerk!" his green eyes were wide in anger, though the older boy just gave a cold snort. Steely blue eyes took in the small boy before him; lanky, chestnut hair, bright-ass green eyes... obnoxious. 

"Kid, didn't your parents ever teach you manners? Do you have any idea who I am?" the question implied that Eren should damn well know better, but it was obvious he did not. "Certainly not, or you would not be currently insisting on being a snot. What's your name?" If anything, knowing who he was would enable some form of blackmail against the boy's family should the need arise.

The question, on the coattails of a severe insult, left Eren in the position of waiting to spit at the older boy's feet and running away. However, he felt as though maybe he had messed up and overstepped his bounds; this was a rather nice part of town, he now noticed. It wouldn't do to anger an aristocrat or even a baron, or the child thereof. Gritting his teeth, Eren straightened his posture. 

"My name is Eren Jaeger, son of Grisha Jaeger," his hands clenched and unclenched a few times. "We came from Germany two years ago, and my father is a doctor." Waiting for some type of reaction, Eren kept his gaze steady with that of the other boy. "Who are you?"

The question was simple, but came off as aggressive and almost like an interrogation rather than someone genuinely curious. The pronunciation and inflection of his French, however, was very poor. The 'R's were too guttural; evidence that this boy was indeed not native French, though to his credit he spoke rather eloquently for not only an immigrant, but a small child. Holding back a chuckle at the boy's obvious attempt at being serious, the name Grisha Jaeger was not unfamiliar to him. Two years ago, his mother had fallen ill, and it was in fact Dr. Jaeger that had been the one to assist her with his groundbreaking medicine and therapy to where she was once again functioning and stable. She had even been invited a few times to appear in court with the queen. Not breaking off his gaze, the boy introduced himself.

"Mon nom est Rivaille Devereux."

' _Rivaille Devereux? As in..._ ' Eyes widening in a minor panic, Eren quickly put two and two together. Amélie Devereux was the name of the woman Grisha Jaeger had come to help a few years ago, transplanting them here. Famous around Paris and much of France as a well-known piano and violin player, she was known to play concerts in some of the famous music halls. She had been struck with an illness that was unheard of, and she had heard of the research Dr. Jaeger had been conducting. The Jaeger family was summoned at once, and had been rewarded quite handsomely for their assistance in helping Madame Devereux. Since then, Grisha had no shortage of people in need and had established a decent respect around the city.

Madame Devereux's husband, Olivier Devereux, was one of the more prosperous exporters and producers of wine in the city of Paris, his exports being produced and sent off from Provence. Both were fine, upstanding citizens who frolicked and fancied with the elite crowds at Versailles, often taking court with the queen, Petra. The Devereux's were handsome in their appearance, both with jet black hair, Madame Devereux having sparkling blue eyes that displayed warm kindness behind her sharp features, while Monsieur Devereux scantly looked kind with his cool grey eyes.

Their son, Rivaille, was a perfect example of fine French breeding, and as he stood before Eren, his crisp blue eyes impatiently awaiting a response, it was then Eren sincerely hoped that he had not made a severe mistake in mouthing off to the wrong person. His mother always chided him for running his mouth, and his father often joked that he must enjoy the taste of his own foot. Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, the younger boy spoke up.

"Je... Je suis désolé. It was not my intent to be rude. I was only offering assistance." The statement was terse and formal; Carla had done well to teach Eren French, as had his father, who had made trips into France before moving there. For being only 10, and being in the country for only two years, the boy was rather proud of what he could accomplish. However, he knew his inflection was poor and crude. Eyes downcast, holding rather small fists up to his chest in a more defensive and humbling way than an aggressive one, he sincerely hoped his apology was accepted. When he heard a small sigh escape from the other boy, he glanced up through a fringe of unruly hair that his mother fussed over daily. 

Rivaille was not used to dealing with brats; one glance their way on the street was usually enough to get them to scurry away. It was a trait he had picked up from his father, and one his mother scolded him for on a fairly regular basis. "It's fine, garçon. What are you doing in this part of town, anyways? Don't you live near the south bank of Seine?" he questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. 

The Devereux's lived in one of the more upscale parts of Paris. They were by no means poor or exceedingly wealthy, but for all the riches his father had made, they lived fairly minimally, choosing to take root at a relatively mid-sized château in the city. It enabled his mother to partake in the immediate gratification of socializing, and his father gained easy access to the business and economics that made the city flourish. It also made easy work for Rivaille to stay shut up by himself, sans the butler who was always too damn nosy and concerned with his affairs. Auruo meant well, but his meddling and habit of running his mouth tended to get him in trouble, making him bite his tongue. 

It was fortunate Rivaille had managed to escape his watchful gaze on such a fine afternoon, scurrying away under the guise of taking a crate of grapes to a neighbor down the street, when in actuality he had planned to find a nice tree to sit under and munch on grapes by himself, leaving the remainder to pigeons. He was pulled from his musings when the young boy spoke up again, timidly and with reserve. 

"Oui, sir... But the day was so beautiful that I couldn't help but want to explore. Paris is so beautiful," his eyes began to shine with innocence and wonder that somehow only children possessed, and it truthfully was rather disgusting to witness. "Everything is so lively and mutti and vati are always so-... Ah, no, uh..." the slip into native tongue made the boy flush in embarrassment. Rivaille knew the Jaeger family hailed from Germany, and though he himself was not very well traveled, he did know languages as his mother saw fit to have him tutored. It was for 'refinement' or some other such nonsense.

With a sigh, the crate was gently set down. Impatience laced his tone as his arms were crossed in front of him, steely blue eyes narrowing. Once he had set down his crate, Eren could take in the fine state of his clothing, leaving him to feel severely under dressed in his simple tunic and pants. The other boy wore a suit in a very deep blue, almost black color, the lines cut sharp and everything fitted to perfection, which was a nice contract to his rather pale skin. 

"Look, it' nearly sunset and you're a long way from home. Even if you began walking now, it would be dark before you found your way again. Do you even _know_ the direction to go to get back?" Green eyes widening in sudden realization of his predicament, Eren sheepishly shook his head; the older boy sighed. He despised charity of any kind. He truly did. But he supposed it couldn't hurt to take pity on this child; Rivaille himself was sixteen, nearly a man in most people's view; old enough to maintain himself in public but young enough to still receive lessons and tutoring. He was also old enough to be able to legitimately boss around his butler and other household servants. 

Extending his hand towards the boy, he gave out an annoyed huff. "Fortunately for you, I am privy to the location of your home and have the means to safely escort you there; how your mother receives you is none of my concern, however. Verstehen Sie?" The last part was requested in German, just to ensure there was no room for error in what was being offered. When Eren gave a nod, eyes widened more, if possible, the young boy took the pale hand outstretched to him, frowning slightly when the fingers under his were cold. Eren was rather tanned, though not so much that there was a large apparent difference. His fingers were too small to fully wrap around Rivaille's hand, so he settled for gripping 4 fingers. The crate was picked back up and tucked under one arm with ease by the older boy; not paying any heed to his now ruined plans. 

Eren seriously wondered how his day had turned out like this. Hell, he practically owed his family's successful transplant to this boy and his family, and he had the nerve to mouth off to him. However, he mused as he was dragged along through the narrow corridors of Paris streets, the attitude and demeanor of the boy pulling him along rubbed him the wrong way. Yea, he was rich, but that didn't give him the right to be a snarky ass. Pouting at his predicament, Eren chose to take in the sights and sounds of the wealthy areas they passed; brick buildings surrounded by flowers and trees, rustic streets littered with leaves and petals from branches overhead. The sun cast many shadows on the sidewalks and doorways, many people choosing to simply go for walks, ladies with parasols and men with stately hats atop their heads. 

Smiling despite his current embarrassment, Eren missed the sidelong glance aimed his way from the other boy; the gaze giving him a once over, from his shaggy brown hair to the patch of dirt on the side of his nose. ' _Tch, disgusting._ ' Children were the absolute worst in terms of tact and poise. Not speaking from experience, as the upbringing both of them were subjected to were drastically different, one growing up in manageable quaintness, the other is excessive prosperity. Upon nearing the house at the end of a lane lined with trees, Eren let out an audible 'Wow!' which gave cause to a small huff to cover a snicker. The house had been nothing impressive to Rivaille, as it was his home, but he supposed to the son of a humble doctor, it must seem like a palace. 

"You are not to touch anything, do you understand? I will not have your grimy mitts," his hand released its hold on the smaller hand "Marring my family's possessions. You will only speak when spoken to." The commanding tone of his voice left no room for argument, though the expression he received in reply was sour as if Eren had eaten a foul tasting substance. 

At Eren's nod, the older boy set down his crate and pushed open the intricately detailed front doors, gilded with swirls and fleur-de-lis in the corners. Never before had Eren bared witness to such opulence, marveling at the small details and swirls on the door until he was hastily shoved from the small of his back inside the house. The foyer they had stepped into was surrounded by richly colored dark wood, with black marble flooring. A grand staircase wound its way up the right side of the entrance, vaulted ceilings painted with vibrant scenery and it was all the small boy could do to keep from bouncing at the grandness of it all. He was pulled from his reverie when he heard hurried footsteps coming at them, and he glanced to his left to see a grumpy looking man step forth from a long hallway, his expression sour despite the small smirk on his face.

"Ahh, maître Rivaille, so nice of you to return so soon; I see you have completed your errand," though the tone was pleasant, Eren could tell this man really couldn't care less about this conversation. "And I see you've brought a guest! How _lovely_ , sir; It's so rare to see you keep company with anybody except your books and ego." Wrinkling his nose in distaste, the dark haired boy sneered.

"Auruo, you know quite well it is not your business to speak so poorly to me, much less in front of a guest. I'll be sure to make your impudence known, but for now I am requesting you prepare a transport for myself and the boy. It's imperative he arrive home safely, as I'm sure his dearest mother is worried sick."

Beady brown eyes narrowed at Eren, his nose also crinkling as if something unsavory had wafted its scent towards him. Clasping his hands together in front of him, a slight bow was given. "Of _course_ , sir. Monsieur and Madame are currently out for the evening, so you will be provided with the smaller of carriages," He looked back up, head tilted to the side in an almost cocky fashion. "I hope that will suffice?" 

Responding with a narrowing of his eyes, Rivaille spat "Of course, imbécile. Get to it." Shocked at the exchange going down, Eren tried to shrink behind the slightly taller boy and disappear, knowing he was probably the cause of this argument. A pause was given when a question was aimed at him.

"And who, may I ask, is our young guest, here? I cannot imagine he is one of your _friends_ , sir." Eyes widening in surprise, Eren shuffled sideways to shoot a quick glance at the other boy. When all he received was a withering stare back, he cleared his throat.

"E-Eren Jaeger, sir. My family just moved here a few years ago from Germany," pausing himself, there was a bit of hesitation; did this butler know of Madame Devereux's condition? Not wanting to spill any secrets, he elaborated a bit. "My father, Grisha Jaeger, is a doctor. He has a small practice on the other side of town... sir." The butler's eyes widened a fraction, his glance quickly darting between Eren and his master. Straightening himself, he gave another short bow.

"Well, Eren, it was _lovely_ to meet you," his gaze shifted. “Maître Rivaille, I shall have your transportation set in ten minutes." And with another curt nod, he scurried away towards the back of the house, or what Eren assumed to be the back of the house. Watching him go, he was startled by the irritated sigh that escaped his companion. Watching as a pale hand tousled his inky hair; the cool gaze was once again focused on him. "You know, I do not perform charity work. Do not think this will happen again; out of courtesy I am assisting you as my mother is indebted to your father."

A small panic flared up. "N-No! No, sir- Rivaille...? We are the ones indebted to you! Honestly, sir, this is a much better place than Germany. It's so vibrant here; there's life!" Ahh, the innocent delight of children. How it disgusted him. Though he supposed France did have its perks, having lived here his whole life and growing up in relative privilege, anything else would seem dull. Shifting his weight to one leg and propping a hand on his hip, he cocked his head to the side. "Well then garçon, you'd best shape up if you want to fit in here. I understand you're only ten, but that does not give you the right to be completely crass and without some form of refinement. Your parents are fine people, and it must pain your dear mother to know you're such a brash little thing."

Sensing that Eren was getting frustrated, on one hand because he wanted to snap at him for the crude way of speaking, but also wanting to be respectful as he had realized his position and the position of the one he was currently holding in decent company, the older of the two decided to let off of his teasing. Straightening up, he began to walk towards the back of the house, the way his trusty bastard of a butler had gone. Not waiting for Eren to follow, as he knew he would, his thoughts wandered. Hearing the shuffle of footsteps behind him, much too loud to be deemed appropriate, his scowl lessened into his typical bored expression. For being a boy of sixteen he had extraordinary patience and could hold his own with many of the aristocrats that frequented their home for the parties his mother enjoyed throwing. It's not as if the celebrations had any lack of refreshments. Dealing with immature, bratty children, however, truly tried the limits of his patience.

He could hear small 'ooh's' and 'ahh's' from the boy behind him, no doubt blatantly ogling the crystal chandeliers they had imported from Austria, or the fine portraits hung on the wall, each one depicting his mother, father and himself. The portrait in the hall of his mother was his favorite; she was wearing a blue dress of the utmost finery, her hair framing her face in large, soft curls. The dress was one he had helped his father choose for her birthday when he was about six years old; a one-of-a-kind Kirschtein creation. 

"Hey, Rivaille...? Why do you wear that poofy scarf? Isn't it stuffy?" 

' _Excuse me?_ ' Stopping short, Rivaille quickly turned on his heel, not able to hide the surprise and disgust on his face. 

"What? Are you referring to my cravat, brat?"

With a nod, Eren's expression was more curious than anything. "Well, yea. I mean, I only ever see stuffy old men wear them. You know, the ones that walk around with canes and what have you," 

' _Old men? Oi._ ' Closing his eyes for a few seconds to regain his composure, a breath was hastily let out.

"For your information, I wear this because I enjoy how it looks. It's called fashion, brat," Giving the smaller boy a once-over, he smirked. "You could do with a few lessons, actually." The scoff of indignation was satisfactory and without giving the other a chance to retort, he turned abruptly and pressed on the few remaining steps to a doorway that lead to a covered porch of sorts. A stately carriage was awaiting them, two black horses at the ready. Auruo came around the side, his look of what Eren had figured to be constant indifference stuck on his face. It appeared as though he was mocking his master, and from their exchange earlier, it wasn't that hard to believe. Opening the door, he gave a curt gesture for them to step inside.

"Are you coming, too?" the small boy asked rater bluntly and loudly, causing the coachman to snicker, and Auruo and Rivaille to each give a small 'tch!' in reaction. Feeling embarrassed, Eren followed the other boy inside before the door was sharply closed at his heels. Feeling extremely out of place and humiliated at his current state of minor filth, Eren was hesitant to mar the red velvet interior. He was short enough to stand with just the top of his head brushing the carriage. Rivaille had taken his seat at the back of the vehicle, his left arm across the back of the seat and one leg crossed over the other. He looked completely comfortable, but still had a stern demeanor about him.

"Sit." 

About to protest at the lack of wanting to mar the finery, a few clicks were heard before the carriage jolted forward, causing Eren to lose his footing and fall forward. His eyes shut immediately, preparing to fall flat on his face, but a pair of hands roughly gripped his shoulders. Wincing, he opened one eye to peek and was startled to find a steely blue glare mere inches from his nose. 

"Brat, I told you to sit." Hands still gripping the other's very thin shoulders, he gave him a shove backwards to seat him on the other bench across from him. Sitting down with a rather ungraceful thud, Eren's face was flushed pink in embarrassment, which only grew when he watched the other boy wipe his hands on a kerchief he withdrew from his pocket, muttering 'disgusting.' Face hot, Eren chose to watch out the window. It had taken more time than he thought to walk from town to Rivaille's house, as the sun had begun to set. Stomach twisting in knots, Eren frowned, now growing worried of how his mother would react. Surely she wouldn't cause a scene if he was being escorted?

Caught in his musings, he failed to notice himself being carefully watched. It wasn't every day that Rivaille had so much excitement in such a short period of time, and he wasn't sure he wished to continue. He was solitary in nature, despite his mother's best efforts to push him to socialize with the other young men and ladies of their acquaintances. Feigning interest in the menial conversations of the city’s upper middle-class was the most boring task he could partake in. He much preferred spending his afternoons in his room playing the violin his mother had gifted him, or simply going for walks around the city. Observing the troubled expression on the boy’s face, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Despite what the boy had said about being indebted to the Devereux's, it truly was the other way around. Had it not been for Dr. Jaeger, his dear mother would very well have perished. It wouldn't due for the family to think themselves in debt for anything, and frankly his father wished he could do more. However, the Jaeger's were a humble family, only accepting enough payment to cover the expenses of moving, though Rivaille saw fit to try and convince Eren to accept a tutor for manners. He certainly needed it. He was pulled from his musings when a pair of startlingly green eyes locked on to his. Narrowing his eyes, he rested his elbow on the side of the carriage, leaning his cheek against it. 

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?"

Jumping a little, Eren wrung his hands together, eyes darting down then back up again. "Um... I was wondering, sir, if I could..." he trailed off, giving a slight pout. It would have been endearing if Rivaille was into that sort of thing. Impatiently, he gestured his hand upward as if to say 'Get on with it!' Glancing up through his scraggly bangs, Eren gave a small sigh. "Can I, maybe call you Levi...? It's just, I can't get the accent right when I say some things and I'd feel bad if I made you mad again, so...?" Again he trailed off, earnestly hoping he didn't sound too stupid.

Eyes widening a small fraction in surprise, Rivaille contemplated. It's not as if he didn't understand the reason for the request; honestly, the innocence was nearly overwhelming. Opening his mouth to respond, he was quickly cut off by hands waving hastily in front of the small boy's face. "I mean, of course if that's not ok I completely understand, but, I mean, an 'L' sound is easier for me, and—"

"It's fine, kid. But only because I comprehend your speech is piss-poor at best." The recurrence of crude language from such an upstanding youth caught Eren off guard, but he smiled despite the gruff acceptance. "And I'm only making this exception for you because you're most likely a lost cause for proper education anyways."

Still smiling, Eren nodded eagerly, hands resting on his knees. Rivaille could tell the kid was almost giddy; disgusting. As they approached the other end of the city, there were men lighting the lanterns along the streets before the sun fully set. Keeping his gaze out the small window, Rivaille knew it was inevitable they would be meeting again. He had met Dr. Jaeger plenty of times, but he had never met Eren or Mrs. Jaeger. He suddenly felt rather rude for not bringing a gift, though he supposed bringing home their child would be gift enough. Though, he mused as the carriage stopped in front of a modest home, he figured there would be another chance to make better acquaintance with the Jaeger family, though he was sure it would not be very often.

As they came to a complete stop and the door was opened for them, the door to the house had opened, revealing a woman who looked sick with worry, and a man behind her who looked more amused than upset. The woman stepped forward to scold her son for wandering away and staying out so late, and profusely began apologizing for any intrusion caused upon the hospitality extended to him, all the while holding Eren captive by his ear, earning her many grumbles.

When the man behind her stepped forward to give a hearty handshake and invited him and his coachman in for dinner, Rivaille mused that it may not be so bad to become closer to this family after all. 

*


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've all heard the generic fairy tale. Handsome prince falls in love with the beautiful princess, sweeps her off her feet, a cliche musical proposition of love. All of this in the span of a week after defeating the arch nemesis that stands in the way of their eternal love that was meant to be. The ending is always sunshine and rainbows and happily ever after.
> 
> You know, true romance and all that shit. Suffice it to say, this is not such a tale of jubilation. Rather, this tale spins in a direction as far from sunshine and rainbows as worldly possible. Sure, there's handsome royalty; a king, even. But what are kingly looks worth if they only doll up the monster within?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos from the previous chapter! I truly appreciate every single one, and I thank you for the time you take to read this! Big thank you again to kiokushitaka for proofreading this!
> 
> So, this chapter does have a bit of time progression, and mostly builds a back story for Eren and Levi's relationship. Next chapter will have more dynamic plot progression, but for now have some simple fluff.
> 
> Also, the song referenced in this chapter can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCWzv5Ss-B0
> 
> If that link does not work, the song is Sonata in A Major for Violin and Harpsichord BWV 1015 by Bach.
> 
> Also just a reminder that Eren says 'Levi' instead of 'Rivaille' because his language skills were poor, but now it's more of an endearment.

Time can sometimes be a friend, and at other times a curse. In the case of Eren Jaeger, he had considered time a blessing. Not only had he been able to outgrow his lanky, awkward appearance, he had even managed to win favor in the charm department. As a young boy of sixteen, Eren had gotten significantly taller, standing at a rather proud 5'9". No longer was he the shortest of his peers, and he had even taken to wearing more stately attire. It was the peak of fashion reform in Paris, and though he felt he could do without some of the ridiculous get-ups he had spotted on some of the nobles, he had taken to the fashion of wearing his hair longer, keeping it back in a low ponytail. Without tying it back, it reached just to the top of his shoulder blades. His mother had at first chastised him, but was reminded that she was indeed married to a man with long hair, and she as well sported longer tresses. Despite his best efforts, a few strands always managed to find their way out of their hold, coming down to frame his face in a way that he felt was not becoming of a man, but the only other option was to cut them and _that_  wouldn’t be really attractive.

All of the Jaeger family had adapted well to the changing tide of culture, though they still preferred simple clothing, which often got them mistaken for Puritans or people of the church as they did not wear flashy colors, though his father had taken recently to wearing a hat. Eren's typical outfit consisted of more form fitting pants than was popular, but he sported knee-high boots in place of pompously decorated shoes. He felt it suited him better, and he often got funny looks in the street for dressing so plainly. It's not as if public opinion of him mattered; the point of fashion was to be a trendsetter, and who's to say knee-high boots wouldn't catch on? His shirts of choice were usually emerald or dark blue, but he had been known to sport some purple at the insistence of Madame Kirschtein when she saw him dressed so plain. 

Jean had taken to the more flashy way of dressing, though he had copied Eren's idea of knee high boots. His shirts and pants were often embroidered with fine threads, the colors showing brilliantly, as was to be expected. He had become a walking advertisement for his family business, and though he still had no particular interest in working for the business, he was charming and charismatic, which went over well with the wealthy ladies that sought their trendsetting dresses. The shop had even been commissioned a few times to make gowns for Queen Petra, who had taken quite the fancy to the unique designs offered. Madame Kirschtein had practically leapt for joy at the chance to not only make a dress for the queen, but to have the bragging rights to some of the other tailors of the city. Jean's cousin, Marco, had recently taken an internship at their shop, and he had been an instant draw for business, as many ladies flocked to the shop if not only for just the chance to speak with him, which in turn lead to much teasing from both Eren and Jean, much to Marco's embarrassment.

*****

If neither the Jaeger's nor the Kirschtein's had plans for their sons, the boys would often take walks about town to visit some of the cultural happenings, which usually meant seek and destroy any food option available and spend all their pocket money doing so. As Eren and Jean walked about town early one fine Sunday morning in March, they stopped in front of a shop that sold instruments, marveling at the fine display of intricately carved violins. Eren had taken a liking to the way a violin and its counterparts had sounded, though he really only preferred one specific musician. Rivaille had kept true to his word and brought about a tutor for Eren due to his severe lack of manners, which had actually been the dark haired boy himself, with occasional assistance from his nosy butler, Auruo. Eren had shaped up to be what was considered a fine gentleman, though at times he was still pig-headed and crass, earning himself a few harsh glares from his 'teacher.'

"You know, I would give anything to know how to play one of those," Jean spoke up first, his arms crossing loosely in front of him. "It brings the ladies around, you know? Couldn't hurt to have a couple of  _those_..." He smirked, giving Eren a sidelong glance. When Eren didn't turn to look at him, it was then he noticed the small smile on his face. The statement was completely lost on him as he was currently picturing a set of pale hands working their magic across the neck of a violin, a bow held ever so-

"Ahh, right, I forgot... You don't swing that way." Though the statement was stated in a matter of fact tone with a light hint of teasing, the reaction was priceless. Realizing he had been spacing off, Eren whipped his head around to face his friend, face flushing hot in embarrassment. Though he tried so hard to keep his feelings and thoughts in check, Jean had a way of seeing right through him, which was both infuriating and humiliating at times. It's not as if the words were completely untrue.

"Th-That's not true, Jean! Don't be an ass." he nearly shouted, waving his hands around quickly as if to dispel the statement. Jean almost felt sympathy for the poor bastard who had managed to steal Eren's poor, childish heart... almost. Though Eren and Jean were great friends, doing their best to get a rise out of the other, he still wasn't a spectacular fan of Rivaille Devereux. The man was pompous and prideful if there was ever a more perfect example, what with his stupid cravat, which was so archaic and outdated, but he still insisted on wearing it. He also tended to stick with more form-fitting, finely tailored clothing, which made him stick out even more. As was typical of the time, he wore knee high leggings, slightly poofy breeches and a loose fitting top, but nothing was ever too loose as his small stature made him look more childish than manly if his clothing hung off of him. With a snicker, the sandy-haired boy ran a hand through his hair, kept short despite the current fashions.

"Don't worry, mon ami, your secret is safe with me. It wouldn't do to be the bearer of bad news to your poor mother that she'll never see grandchildren-" he was abruptly caught off guard by a hand smacking him upside the head, his laughter doing nothing to soothe the scowl on the other boy's face. It's not as if liking the same gender was a crime; not as long as you had enough money to stay in the good graces of the authorities. Though, Jean mused as they resumed their walk, his shoulder shoving Eren slightly as they carried on, the other boy still scowling, it's not as if Eren had chosen an easy conquest.

Rivaille was one of the most eligible bachelors of the city, already an accomplished musician and set to inherit his father's vintage. At twenty-two years old, it was a prime time to be married off, and his parents saw fit to escort him when they went to many of the parties thrown by the influential families of Paris and Versailles.

It's not as if Jean particularly wished Eren's feelings to fail, as he wanted nothing more than happiness for his closest friend, but it wouldn't do for him to be completely heartbroken, either. It's not as if the Devereux's were short on wealth, but you couldn't well just _buy_  an heir to your lineage. Not when they already had a perfectly poised and molded son already set to take over. Glancing to the side, the slight pout stuck on Eren's face was endearing, and frankly if Jean swung that way, he might very well have pursued him. However, his eyes were set elsewhere on a dark haired beauty he had seen at Versailles while on a trip with his father to do research and rub elbows with the elite-

"Besides, you know that Levi has a complete stick up his ass already about everything, there wouldn't be room for me anyways." Though it was in a completely off-hand, monotone way, Jean did not miss the way Eren's lips were attempting to stay flat, the corners wavering. Bursting out in obscenely loud laughter, causing other pedestrians to give them both disgusted glares, the comment earned Eren a harsh slap on the back. This is why they had been friends for so long. Joking about everything to do with Rivaille had been a common occurrence between them, though sometimes Jean got more heavy-handed with his insults. Eren would always be the first to jump to the defense of the raven-haired boy; it had been Rivaille who had taken it upon himself the daunting task of trying to provide Eren with some sense of refinement, all under the guise that he couldn't possibly be seen with anybody so crass in decent society.

"Speaking of Levi, my parent's and I have been extended an invitation to dine with his family this evening. His mother and father are both in town, so it's a rare opportunity to visit with them both," the tone of his voice was excited, but calm, which greatly betrayed his inner turmoil. It was in fact Eren's sixteenth birthday today, which he knew was no coincidence that they had been invited over for the evening. Generally on his birthdays since the Jaeger family's arrival in France, it had been customary for them to be invited over by the Devereux's for dinner and company. "I'm curious what the gift will be this year?"

Shaking his head, smile still plastered on his face, Jean shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. Earlier that morning, Jean had presented Eren with a vest his mother had made for him, a gift from them all that Eren was hesitant to accept as it was made of a very fine emerald green velvet, embroidered with delicate gold designs. It would be strictly reserved for formal occasions, as Eren did not trust himself to not get it completely filthy.

"Who knows? I say why not put your present from this morning to good use? You know how much your amour loves when you dress fancy for him," A fist swinging at his head was narrowly dodged. "Perhaps he'll see fit to give you a matching cravat, and then you can look the part of a complete set. Ah, be still my heart!" The absolutely mortified expression on Eren's face suggested he actually believed the teasing, which in turn gave way to more laughter on his part. _Oh, Eren. You're just too simple but so oblivious._

The only one who seemed to be in denial between them of Eren's affections was Eren himself, and Jean severely doubted that of all the things Rivaille was, oblivious was not among them.

The rest of their trek was continued in relative silence. Their goal this morning was their favorite pâtisserie, Madeline's. In their neighborhood, it was one of the most well-known and well respected pâtisseries, boasting some of the most unique confections. The shop's owner, Madeline Arlert, knew them both by name, and was in fact on good terms with both the Jaeger and Kirschtein families. Her son, Armin, was also a good friend of both Jean and Eren, though he did not participate in much socializing with them due to the fact that the hours he worked usually began late the night before and ended around noon, which left him little in the form of daylight hours to go out. Today was unfortunately one such occasion, and as both boys strolled in to the shop, the smell of fresh baked goods assaulted both their noses, making their mouths instantly water. Armin stood behind the counter, currently arranging baguettes into baskets, his long blond hair pulled back in a rather messy ponytail.

"Bonjour Jean! Bon anniversaire, Eren!" was their cheerful greeting, blue eyes sparkling with joy at seeing his two best friends. Armin was exceptional in his skill, being able to create things neither of them could ever think of, such as making animals out of pâte à choux. Wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his chef jacket, he stepped out from around the counter to give Eren a hug in greeting, arms around his neck pulling the slightly taller boy down a few inches. The last they had seen each other was a few weeks prior, as Armin had gone with his father on a trip to Belgium to gather information on chocolate. He had just returned a few days prior.

Returning the hug with equal fervor, the smile plastered on Eren's face was one of absolute happiness, equally due to seeing his friend as well as the prospect of obtaining something sweet and flavorful. Pulling away, another hug was offered to Jean, who politely declined, saying he didn't want to get flour on his freshly laundered shirt. Armin stepped back, bright smile still on his face. He had also taken to wearing his hair longer, but kept it back while at work as it was cumbersome. "I can't wait to tell you all about my trip! It was so amazing the things the Belgians do with chocolate. For example, they've taken to putting orange peels in their chocolate bars, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, mon ami!" Eren laughed, grasping the wildly gesturing hands of the blond boy, his emerald eyes sparkling. "As much as Jean and I would both simply _adore_  hearing your tales of chocolate, unfortunately we must politely decline for today. My family is to dine at la maison de Devereux this evening and mutti would be upset with me if I were to miss arriving at home in time. It was brought to my notice this morning that I am to retrieve something from your dear maman?" Head tilting to the side in what Eren sincerely hoped was an endearing way, he did feel remorse for the small pout that crossed Armin's face.

Giving a small huff in annoyance that was betrayed by his small smile, Armin acknowledged that was Eren said was correct and disappeared to the back of the shop for a few moments. When he emerged, he brought with him a simple box which had been tied with rather bright ribbons.

"Maman says you were not to open this until you’ve arrived to your destination this evening, but I think she's being silly; We all know it's a cake," he stated, eyes rolling. Madeline Arlert liked to pretend she was good at surprises, but all three teenagers knew she was exceptionally predictable, always making the same cake for their birthdays. Eren preferred chocolate cake with butter crème and strawberries, and Jean always received a vanilla butter cake simply topped with blueberry jam and candied violets.

Taking the box offered to him, Eren gave the boy a smile. "Merci. I'm sure mutti and vati will all be surprised," he joked, making sure the box was closed securely. It was quickly approaching 11'o clock, and Eren was warned to be home not a minute later than noon, as he was to be dressed appropriately. By that, his mother meant to dress him in any and all finery he possessed and to make sure he was clean and presentable. "You know how they both get when we are to make an appearance anywhere that's not here or Jean's. Pull out the Sunday best on a Friday; lächerlich!" Despite living in France for so long, Eren still liked to use his native German, especially around Armin and Jean who appreciated the guttural sounding words mixed in with the delicate French.

"Oui, oui, all well and good, mes amis, but I daresay we should carry on. Wouldn't want to keep Madame Jaeger waiting. You know how she gets." Jean stated matter-of-factly, giving each boy cause to wince. Though Carla Jaeger was more motherly than most women, she had a temper that nobody dared cross. With that, the two boys made their exit, bidding farewell to Armin and promising they would return soon to talk of his travels.

Upon their exit, they again passed by the music shop, and Eren made note to stop by there someday and contemplate their wares. Though he knew Rivaille hated presents or anybody making a big to-do about him, it always made him feel important when he was offered sincere thanks for any gift he dared bestow.

*****

Nothing was quite as sweet or serendipitous as sitting by an open window of a house in Paris, a cool evening breeze finding its way inside, bringing with it the scent of blooming flowers. The air was pleasant as it ruffled unruly bangs on a tanned forehead; no notice being paid to them as the owner of said hair was too busy being wrapped in a sweet melody.

It wasn't every day that just anybody was treated to the trill of a violin and twang of a harpsichord meshing together to make a beautiful sonata, and what a spectacular display it was. The experience was only heightened by the stunning visual presented from the performance being conducted, as one set of pale hands deftly plinked at the finely crafted keys before her; striking each note with delicacy and finesse. Her face was settled into an expression of concentration, but the smallest of smiles tugged at her lips, blue eyes half-lidded in focus, her form swaying ever so slightly with the beat. A light blush tinged her cheeks and it only added to the awe inspiring image of one completely lost in their passions.

Another set of equally pale hands delicately held an intricately carved bow, flying over the tightly wound strings of a violin. The instrument was small and dainty, but the sound was loud and powerful; a stark contrast to both the instrument and its player. Each strum of the strings brought about a slight bowing of the slender waist of the one holding it, hips and waist both bending and twisting in slight tandem with the beat, as if the serenade was only for him, lost in his own dance.

It wasn't every day you were personally entertained by two of the top musicians in France at the same time, and by private showing at their request. It was all Eren could do to keep from drooling at the sight of the young man before him, being completely captivated by the sensual movements presented. It was almost as if he was spying on something private, as surely it was not something that everybody who witnessed his performances bore witness to. There was no way someone so stoic, so refined, would ever let themselves be enveloped by music in such a way.

Though, the half lidded gaze that mimicked his mother told otherwise. The expression of complete calm and focus told the listener that not only did he know how to play, he was also truly passionate and taken in by his task, as was also evidenced by the lack of sheet music in front of him. It seemed as though the violin was an extension of himself, and the way his fingers glided effortlessly over the strings was almost sinful. It was working Eren's adolescent nerves watching such sensual movements. Sure, he had listened to Rivaille play many times as he grew up, one time even attempting to learn before the both of them deemed that a horrible idea and never brought it up again.

However, it had been a few months since he had last seen or heard the other man play, and it seemed he had a renewed sense of vigor upon returning to a week-long trip to the capital with his mother where both of them had performed a duet. Beside him, his parents both listened with rapt attention, small smiles on their faces as they simply enjoyed the performance. On his other side, Monsieur Devereux had his arms crossed in front of his chest, expression stern and without mirth; a gaping contrast to the current mood of the room. Surely someone who was so accustomed to the finer things in life could appreciate such wonderful music?

However, Eren mused, he was most likely tired of hearing the same song over and over. If it had been him, he would gladly give anything, everything, just to be able to hear Levi play. It was beautiful, in every sense of the word. Nothing he had ever heard came close to the sound that Levi was able to create with his violin. Even his mother couldn't seem to pull the same types of sounds from her violin, though she was no doubt a master of her craft. Eren was pulled from his own thoughts at the sound of soft clapping; he had been so focused on watching Levi that he failed to notice his hands were now at his sides, taking a small bow in the form of a curt nod at the small audience, his ponytail falling over his shoulder. Like Eren, he had taken to wearing his hair long, though his was a bit longer and had a slight curl at the ends, his bangs kept short and parted in front of his face. He did keep the underside extremely short, which was nearly impossible to find anywhere.

Eren clumsily clapped his hands together a few times, jumping slightly when his mother reached over to smack his chin; his mouth had been hanging open in a rather unsightly way, and he flushed pink in embarrassment. That's all he would need for the one he admired so much to notice him being a complete idiot in his presence, though he severely doubted much attention was paid to him above what was absolutely necessary.

"Exceptionnel, Amélie!" Deceptive in his appearance, Olivier Devereux had a rather booming voice. His physique was more on the slender side, though his face was very much that of a man; strong jawline, thick, dark eyebrows and his signature stormy gray eyes. He rose to stride over to his wife, extending his hand to help her up. Though she was now cured of her illness from so many years ago, it had taken a toll on her overall health and she had trouble standing for long periods of time. It all but ended her ability to play violin, but she had mastered the harpsichord as well as piano, and now preferred the former over piano. Her dress was quite lavish and bright, being made of a fine velvet and rather poofy, which to Eren did not seem logical for someone who sat so much at an instrument.

As she stood, her arm interlinked with that of her husband, her slight weight shifting to lean in to him. Had you not known them, you may say they were very stale with each other, betraying no outward signs of affections. However, they were completely comfortable not only in their own home, but also with the Jeager's whom they had come to consider very close friends.

Rivaille gave them a slight scowl behind their backs, not preferring their overly affectionate display. Carla and Eren both caught sight of his scowl and stifled small laughs as he put his violin away, which caused his frown to deepen when he noticed.

"Olivier, Rivaille has certainly made great strides in his playing; I can't say I've heard that one before!" Grisha spoke up, paying homage to the work they had just listened to. Rivaille seldom received praise by his father, and it at times made for a tense environment. However, it seemed as though this time it was simply overlooked by the older man. Turning to face his son, his chest swelled with pride.

"Oui, Grisha. Rivaille is our pride; we are honored to have such talent in the family. I cannot imagine a finer example of blessing being bestowed upon Amélie and myself."

As if sensing he was about to be put upon a pedestal, Rivaille attempted to make haste in leaving the room, only to be blocked at the door by Auruo, who had been keeping to the side. It's not as if the motion was subtle, either, which caused all those present to laugh at his expense, save for Eren who truthfully felt a bit bad. Rivaille hated being made a large fuss over, especially by his father, who was generally non-indulgent, but the rare times he was, he seemed to go overboard. It was almost as if he was making up for lost time in being so sparse with his compliments.

Gesturing with his free hand, Olivier motioned for Rivaille to join them. With a small 'tch' he shuffled over to his father. The stark difference in height is what took most people by surprise; Amélie and Olivier were both rather tall, the lady standing at about 5'8" and the man standing at about 5'11".

Rivaille stood at a rather short 5'5".

All present in the room, however, were used to it, though his mother enjoyed lamenting, and teasing him, over it.

"Ahh, mon bébé, Rivaille. It is such a shame you did not gain your father's height," she gushed, grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him back in to her chest, a motion he gave in to, an expression of clear annoyance stuck on his face. In public, this family was one of the finest upstanding. In private, the parents were very amiable and quite enjoyed teasing their son, who they felt needed to not take himself so seriously. Eren could wholeheartedly agree. "How are you ever to win the hearts of the ladies who vie for your affections?"

At that, Eren wholeheartedly disagreed, now suddenly sporting a scowl matching that of the other boy. Giving a soft shove to his mother's arm, Rivaille pulled away, though her hand remained on his shoulder.

"Mère, you know quite well I am not in such a position as to give myself to any of the beautiful ladies of court, though I am sure there is no shortage of considerations. It wouldn't do to leave them alone at home whilst I pursue my music ever so lovingly."

The tone in which he spoke was absolutely dripping in thick sarcasm, and Eren had to stifle a laugh. The sheer eloquence of his defiance was respectable; nobody dared speak in such a way in public, though in private things were another matter. Both parents simply laughed at his stubborn refusal, his father waving a hand in the air.

"Oui, oui, Rivaille; all in good time. However," he exclaimed rather loudly, his attention turning once more to their guests. "I believe it is now time to partake of the wonderful gâteau the Jaeger's have brought this evening to celebrate a young man's birthday."

With that, the mood lightened significantly, though it hadn't been quite anything considered as tense before. All present agreed that the cake would be delicious as always, sans for Rivaille who would have nothing to do with chocolate cake. It was too messy of a food and he didn't favor sweet things. Eren could not possibly hope to ever understand this, as the cakes from Madeline's were truly top notch.

As they were being lead out of the parlor they had taken audience in after dinner, Rivaille gently grasped Eren by his elbow, pulling him back from his parents as they continued onward. At the questioning gaze he received, he straightened his posture.

"Would you like to talk and walk with me around the garden?" he requested, expression nothing short of bored, though he held a glint in his eye that put Eren slightly on edge. It wasn't as if Eren was uncomfortable around him, as they had grown rather close over their years of playing teacher and student. However, he knew that the older boy sincerely enjoyed harassing him and putting him in situations that always ended with Eren embarrassed and flustered and the other smirking.

Rivaille sincerely hoped that his presumptions until now were correct regarding the younger boy that he had taken responsibility for in regards to refinement and manners. Though he did not indulge in pursuing a relationship with anybody beyond the friendly nature of Eren and the occasional audience with Eren's two friends, it wouldn't do for his mother to keep harassing him with match-making threats. Surely she of all people had to understand that his affections were held elsewhere.

Of both his parents, Amélie was sharp in matters of the heart. She was forever assisting other women with their children's love woes, and had finally begun turning her attentions to her own son, seeing fit to marry him off at the ripe age of twenty-two. It was truly inspiring in the way that it seemed to light a fire under him to not drag his feet any longer.

Not that he had any reason to drag his feet. Eren, though still a teenager and by all accounts still growing, was turning out to be quite the sight. Anybody would be proud to have him... not that he was a prize. In this day and age, it was more important who you had on your arm than the actual emotional relationship, though many touted 'true love' when they found someone pretty enough to suit their tastes. It was truly disgraceful, and Rivaille wanted no part of it. His intentions would soon be made apparent, and if this boy did not want him, well... He would just try again until he did. When the boy nodded, he turned on his heel and pressed forward.

Eren sincerely hoped his heartbeat was not heard through his chest, and at his nod a small smirk was aimed his way. Face feeling hot, Eren followed him out of a set of double doors at the back of the room, this one leading directly outside. The sun had just set, which still left some light outside, though perhaps only about half an hour's worth. As the two made their way down the few finely crafted steps from the doorway, the soft scent of blooming lavender was wafted their way. Madame Devereux was quite fond of lavender and saw fit to have as much as possible included in their garden. Eren had always liked it because the smell always reminded him of Rivaille, and he saw fit to keep lavender with him whenever he could, often times picking it from the garden before him when he thought Rivaille wasn't looking. It was completely ridiculous and it took everything he had to act casual when his mother questioned the dried lavender buds in his bed linens when she did laundry.

The gentle sounds of crickets chirping were the only sound other than the heels of Rivaille's shoes clicking on the walkway. One fashion that was very popular for men was to wear shoes with significant heels, to which Rivaille had taken a particular fondness of. The shoes he was currently wearing gave him another good two inches, making him almost eye level with Eren. It was something Eren had seen fit to tease him for mercilessly as soon as he started to outgrow him. When Rivaille was eighteen, they were the same height, which had given way to awkward encounters whenever they would see each other; Eren embarrassed and Rivaille heavily annoyed.

Clearing his throat as they came to a stop in front of a rather impressive fountain, the older man glanced to his right, watching as Eren gaped at the water cascading from the spout on top. It never failed to amuse him how in-awe the boy was at everything to do with the Devereux estate. It's not as if they lived in obnoxiously lavish dwellings, but it was nowhere near bare and humble like the Jaeger's home. Olivier Devereux much appreciated the finer things in life, and though his home size was modest, there was no shortage of things on display to prove their wealth.

At the slight noise Rivaille made, Eren turned his attention to him, closing his mouth rather sheepishly as he knew he'd been caught staring. It had always embarrassed him how much he gawked; it's not as if the surroundings were new. Most of the past 6 years of his life had been spent here, going through various lessons in order to form him into a suitable gentleman. One Rivaille would be proud to be seen with. Which had brought them to their current situation, Eren nervously shifting his weight as he stood, and the other man fidgeting with something in his pocket.

"Levi... What's wrong? You've seemed off ever since we showed up this eve-... No, you've seemed off for about a week," Eren stated, confusion laced in his tone. It was extremely rare to see Levi flustered, and it wasn't something Eren was particularly enjoying. "Have I done something to upset you...?" The question weighed heavy in the air between them for a brief moment, only broken by the sound of the other man giving out a short laugh, terribly covered by a cough.

"As much as I would be happy to deny that you have any effect on my state of mind, I regret to inform you that you've done everything," he stated in a huff, mild annoyance laced in with a slight timbre in his voice that Eren was taken aback by.

 _Is he... nervous?_  Frowning slightly, green eyes darted from the other's face down to the hand in his pocket and back up again. Rivaille was refusing to meet his gaze, instead focused straight forward on the cascading water. As Eren was about to speak, he was cut off rather curtly.

"As you asked, I do consider myself to be rather upset, though not in any sense of anger as you may be implying." With that admission, Eren let out a small sigh of relief, but it was short lived because it still didn't answer his earlier question. However, Rivaille pressed on, turning to face the other boy. Their gazes met, and the slightly troubled expression focused on him made Eren fidget, tugging on the hems of his sleeves in self consciousness.

"You are well aware that, up until this point, our current status has been that of mentor and pupil, though at times you've been an absolute travesty at comprehension," Eren gave a small scoff, but grinned despite himself. "As it stands, however, you've made great leaps in way of becoming something akin to civilized enough for decent society, and I feel as though we've been able to establish amiable kinship these past 6 years. Which, to be frank, is not an easy feat because I truthfully cannot stand the likes of most people with their petty, high-brow shitty attitudes."

At that, Eren let out a laugh at the brash difference between the eloquence of the words mixed in with such brazen obscenities. This was entirely the reason Eren harbored feelings beyond that of a mentor and pupil, though he couldn't possibly bring that up now. He would be laughed at, surely, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was upset Rivaille.

Eren's laugh helped dispel some of the tense atmosphere that had settled between them, which was much relief to Rivaille. He regained his composure, straightening his posture with another clearing of his throat. "Eren," he started, rather briskly, which was unintentional. His next words were more mild. "I have something for you, but I did not want to raise a large fuss in the presence of our families, as you know both our mother's enjoy dramatizing everything," Eren nodded.

Rivaille then withdrew his hand from his pocket, a small black box enclosed in his palm. It took nearly all of his willpower to keep his nerves in check, as it wouldn't do to completely unravel at this crucial pinnacle. "The timing was proper, as it is your birthday." His voice was calm, entirely betraying his inner turmoil and doubts.  _What if I was wrong? What if I read the situation incorrectly...?_

The look on Eren's face had switched from mildly amused to pale and shocked, which was not what Rivaille expected. He expected mild confusion, yes, but not the look of trepidation he saw. This only reinforced his inner turmoil, but he also appreciated how Eren was such an open book and never changed despite all of his tutorings. It was refreshing in a really annoying sort of way.

"I... Levi, what is it? What are you getting at? You know I'm not proficient in riddles or games..."

Pulled from his inner monologues by the pathetic tone in which Eren adopted, he decided to essentially 'man up' and complete his task for the day. As much as he enjoyed ruthlessly teasing Eren and keeping him on edge, his whining was obnoxious and grating. Shifting his steely blue gaze to the box in his hand, Eren's eyes followed his movements as he opened the box to reveal... a key. It resembled a skeleton key, albeit much nicer. It was made from solid gold, and while it dissipated some of Eren's pent up nervousness and relaxed his expression, it also brought on more questions than before.

 _All this anticipation for a key?_  "Levi, what-"

"Tais-toi! Noisy brat... Of all the traits I value in myself, I cannot claim to be as expressive as you," he sighed, running his thumb along the edge of the open box. "However, I have resolved myself to my decision, and this is my gift to you." As he spoke, he gently lifted the key from the box, revealing it was in fact attached to a leather cord to make a necklace. Holding it in front of him as if to examine it fondly, he continued. "Eren, I am not foolish. I am well aware of what is between us."

At that, Eren's own nervousness came flooding back, his face taking on a tinge of pink that was rather unbecoming and quite embarrassing. Rivaille gave a small smile at the obvious sign of distress, the reaction giving him all the confirmation he needed that his assumptions were accurate. The adoration Eren displayed on numerous occasions while in his presence was almost disgusting; even Auruo, his useless butler, had picked up on Eren's mannerisms and had made his own commentary, much to Rivaille's disdain.

"Which in turn means I cannot continue to carry on in feigned ignorance. I want you to have this." he said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched, the key glinting in the soft light still present from the sun still barely lingering on the horizon. Eren kneeled slightly, gathering that it was the intent for him to wear it. Pocketing the box quickly, Rivaille gently slid the necklace over Eren's head, ensuring not to snag his small ponytail. His fingers, however, grazed gently through his chestnut hair as he retracted his hand, eyes scanning Eren's expression which was a mix of uncertainty and happiness, which made for a strained look which was endearing.

"Levi... It's really, I mean... I love it, but," he looked down at the key, grasping the cool metal in his hands, fingers running over the surface. "I don't understand. Why a key?"

Giving a small smile, Rivaille rolled his eyes. Everything about this conversation was disgusting, and entirely not something he wished to do very often. The thoughts running through his head were disgusting, the words he wanted to _say_ were disgusting, however it was important Eren understood the gravity of this situation. The levels of trust between them ran deeper than anybody else that Rivaille had ever met, and he was certain this decision was the best one.

"At risk of sounding completely foolish, I will make this as clear as possible so even _you_  understand, brat," he said, which made Eren snap his gaze up in indignation.

"What's that supposed to m-!"

"The key to my heart."

There was a split second of very heavy silence between them, Eren's mouth dropping open in a really unattractive way and Rivaille diverting his gaze to the side, lower lip stuck out slightly in the smallest of pouts.

"The... What? Levi, I..." Eren stumbled over his words as he felt his face grow hot. Suddenly everything odd about his behavior for the past week had made sense. _He had this made for me. Me! The key to his heart is... for_   ** _me_**.

"I do not need any pretty words of affirmation from you. I am imposing my own selfish affections and am not asking for anything in return. I don't expect you to have anything intelligible to say given the circumstance, and I would rather have you use what small part of your brain accessible to you to put together something more comprehensible than what I anticipate you would now blurt out in obligated retaliation-"

"Levi, you're really talkative today!" He blurted, hand still wrapped tightly around the key. The annoyed look aimed his way made Eren feel stupid for interrupting.

"Don't be foolish, Eren. I always talk frequently in your company. Or have you been so enamored with me that nothing has been absorbed through your thick skull?" Rivaille retorted, enjoying the was Eren shifted his stance awkwardly.

"No, I mean... I'm sorry, I just... This is actually the best present I could ask for," Eren started, kicking the toe of his boot against a small rock on the pathway. It was a bad habit to fidget when he was nervous, though the elation at just what had been given to him was nearly overwhelming. Shifting his head up, he locked eyes with the slightly shorter male, a goofy smiled plastered on his face. "You're always so closed-off and I'm just... really happy."

The gentle smile on Eren's face did everything to melt Rivaille's heart, and if he were more impulsive, he might have stepped forward and made actions to do more to improve the mood. However, he knew that was enough for today. It wouldn't do to move too fast or escalate this too quickly. They each had nothing but time, however he did make a few steps to the side, nodding with his head back at his home, indicating for them to begin walking back. It had gotten darker as they had stood outside, though the moon shone brightly above them. If they stayed away much longer, their families would begin looking for them, and no doubt bring upon nothing but questions and teasing.

As they both turned to walk back, Eren's hand shyly found its way to the more slender hand of his companion. Fingers linking together, they walked on in silence, both content with this sudden progression to their relationship, neither having a concern for anything else.

When they arrived back inside, Amélie announced that she and Levi had been invited back to Versailles for another concert and an extended stay, which for reasons unbeknownst to Eren, made him oddly uneasy despite his current jubilation. It wasn't as though either needed to worry about when and where they explored their new opportunities, however, as noted previously, fate does at times fancy pulling one towards a different destiny, usually far from what we have planned for ourselves.


	3. Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the delay! Life and things and stuff happened, and this chapter has been a bear to write. I've re-written the ending a dozen times and I'm finally happy with it! Gah, I'm so, so sorry for the lateness! T_T I really have no excuse
> 
> Please enjoy, and expect a much sooner update for the next chapter. This chapter mostly focuses on Eren and Levi progressing their relationship a bit, with some fluff. Next chapter gets in to the nitty-gritty of this thing. 
> 
> Song referenced in this chapter is this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etB8MAjNaz0
> 
> Also you can find me on tumblr at sm-dc.tumblr.com!

Scales are something every musician learns before anything else. Scaling helps build the hearing to get accustomed to the tones of the keys or strings of their instrument, and becomes second nature within a general month of practice. Whenever one gets stuck in their music, it never hurts to run through a few sessions of scales. Knowing the basic notes on any instrument also helps establish a sense of timing which was important for any composition. Timing was key for a steady ebb and flow of the tune you wished to create, and to establish the right rhythm. This is something that had been impressed upon Rivaille from a very young age; nearly since infancy.

The same could not be said, however, for his current dance partner, who was doing everything within his power to ensure Rivaille never had a painless walk for at least the next month. Currently, both men were engaged in a waltz, or what was intended to be a waltz. It's not as though this was their first dance; far from it, in fact. Dancing had been one of the first things Rivaille saw fit to teach Eren when he had taken it upon himself to be the equivalent of a "governess" for the boy. When he was younger, it was mostly going through the steps to learn them, and due to their height difference, Eren had learned to follow. Now that the roles were reversed, much to Rivaille's annoyance, Eren had been taught to lead.

It had been a few weeks since Eren's birthday, and the current struggle to dance properly could easily be attributed to nervousness on the part of the younger male. The intimate proximity required for dancing had previously only been embarrassing, but since the previous revelations weeks prior, it was all Eren could do to focus on a single task when the object of his affections was so closely pressed against him. Eren's right hand was pressed firmly against the small of Rivaille's back, his left hand holding the other's right hand up and away from their bodies as they twirled awkwardly around the small ballroom within the Devereux estate.

Amélie was at their piano forte, plinking out a gentle tune, emphasizing the beat more for the benefit of Eren to keep count and not lose his footing. The shuffling of their shoes and mumbled apologizes from Eren were the only other sound in the room. Rivaille's mother did everything within her power to keep the smile from showing too brightly on her face, choosing to focus downward at her hands. This was more for the benefit of the boys, as Eren would be mortified if he saw, and Rivaille would be severely annoyed beyond what he had been brought to by having his toes constantly assaulted. A waltz was not a common dance for social gatherings, but it had been a personal favorite of Rivaille's for many years.

Minuet was the popular dance for parties and the like, but in the privacy of his own home, this was what he insisted on teaching Eren since the boy was small. It was both surprising and unsurprising to him that for now, Eren was having trouble concentrating. The key he had given the boy glinted from its position around his neck, which made a small smile quirk the corner of his lips.

"Stop watching your feet, brat. Keep your eyes on your partner..." Rivaille and his parents were due to leave for Versailles the following morning, and Eren insisted on spending as much time as possible beside his mentor. "Or I might have to go off in search of a more fitting dancer on my trip to Versailles," he teased, relishing the way Eren's face scrunched into a scowl. It was amazing how absolutely predictable the boy was, and how open he was with his emotions. It was extremely refreshing, considering the company he was forced to keep as part of social groups was quite stuffy and dry. He was not looking forward to an entire month away from home, and away from Eren, but his status as an accomplished musician led him many places with his mother, and his father when he was available.

"You know as well as I that I couldn't possibly find anyone better suited to my tastes than you, brat. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

The slight reddening of Eren's face was satisfactory enough, and as the song came to an end, they stopped their dance slowly, Eren giving a bow from his waist, bringing the other's hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back, as was customary. The action was enough to maintain the blush on Eren's face, and a stifled laugh came from behind him. Eren didn't dare look at the woman who sat at the piano bench, as all he didn't need was to be teased for his reaction. As far as Eren knew, Amélie knew nothing of their arrangement, but Rivaille knew better. He knew his mother was excessively sharp, and though she would not outwardly say anything, he knew where she stood on the matter. It's not as if having a partner of the same gender was unusual in this day and age; even the king and queen were rumored to entertain someone of similar persuasion, though the rumors were never confirmed.

Rivaille extracted his hand, a small smirk aimed Eren's way as he walked over to help his mother stand. One hand was placed on her waist, the other holding her hand as she stood to her feet. She was not able to wear the small corsets that had become so fashionable, and was more prone to wearing dresses custom made to still maintain the popular silhouette without crushing her midsection.

"Merci, mon fils," she said softly, resting her other hand atop the piano for balance. She picked up a lace fan she had place there earlier, giving a small smack to her son's hand to shoo him away, the smallest of smiles still gracing her lips.

"Mère, you know it does nothing for your health to stand on your own. Docteur Jaeger said you should rest as much as possible; your strength should be reserved for our travels-" he was abruptly cut off by another slight tap, this time to the top of his head. A withering look was aimed her way.

"Rivaille, I am fine to stand. Your father should be in shortly, then I can leave you two fine young men to your evening. It's always just so refreshing to see such liveliness of dancing," she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice.

Before she fell ill, the Devereux's had enjoyed dancing enthusiastically at the many parties they hosted. Paris was known for many a festive soirée thrown by the affluent families, many parties being held here in their own home. However, she only now managed to be able to play the piano as she could sit on her bench. Despite these things, she still kept her spirits up and her quality of life had drastically improved to a point where she could live a long, healthy life.

"I only wish I were in good health enough to be able to dance with your father, Rivaille. Ah, that man is so fluid in his movements.." she trailed off, her hand coming to rest on her cheek as she fanned herself with a bit more vigor as she was lost in a daydream.

Rivaille grimaced at the blatant show of affection, Eren gave a goofy sort of grin and from one corner of the room, Auruo snickered at Rivaille's discomfort. He had been present the entire time as he was Rivaille's personal butler, though the boy was now old enough to manage himself.

"Mère, surely you could try and contain yourse-"

"Hush, Rivaille. Let your mother have her whims. Lord knows she deserves it, and the least you could do is be grateful for her health." A voice boomed through the comfortable silence, the door of the room opening to reveal Olivier Devereux. His stern features were pulled in to an annoyed expression aimed at his son, his posture upright and rigid. The man was all for formality, and was always anxious before traveling. Though he was an excellent businessman, it was no secret that he much preferred being with his family, more specifically his wife. Rivaille was fine with this, as his personality much reflected that of his father and they often clashed in opinions. Not to say their relationship was bad, just mutually beneficial to spend as little time together as possible.

He strode across the room to gently hold his wife's hand, her arm coming up to intertwine with his, hand resting on his forearm. It was a position that they often took up, and watching their rather intimate display made Eren grin a bit wider, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. What he wouldn't give to be able to show blatant affection like that with the man he favored. However, it was not that simple as Eren got the feeling Rivaille was still taking this one step at a time. The Devereux's slowly made their way to the double doored entrance of the room, the soft clicking of their shoes the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

"Rivaille, do not stay up too late. We must make haste if we are to arrive decently tomorrow," his father said sternly, giving his son a poignant stare as he walked past. Eren moved out of their way, making his way over to the piano. Rivaille gave a small courtesy tilt of his head to acknowledge he heard his father, following them to the door to see them out.

"Bonne nuit, mon bebe," said Amelie, a small smile aimed at her son. Despite Rivaille's age, she still insisted on referring to him as her baby. He gave a slight wrinkling of his nose in reply, though he was long past being annoyed by it. He had learned to treasure each day with his mother as she had a new lease on life, and he reached out to pull her hand to his lips in a chaste kiss.

"Bonne nuit, mère. Père." A small nod again was aimed at his father as they brisked by and down the hall.

Once the Devereux's made their exit, Rivaille immediately shooed his nosy butler out, his protests being cut off by the door shutting in his face. It was nearly impossible to separate himself from Auruo when he was home as the butler saw fit to not only monitor his charge, but also be as annoying as possible in the process. It was a severe try of Rivaille's patience and it was every reason he was happy to leave the house for any reason. However, he knew he had to refrain from leaving the house tonight as the Devereux's were set to leave early the next morning for Versailles.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he looked over his shoulder at Eren, who was standing by the piano in the corner, his fingers ghosting along the keys. Rivaille knew Eren loved music and it was such a shame he really had no talent whatsoever for instruments. They had tried, many times, but he couldn't figure it out. That's not to say he wasn't musically gifted, as was apparent by his soft humming as he ran his fingers lightly over the keys. He could sing very well, and could harmonize with notes when Rivaille would practice. Eren had a lovely tenor, and it was endearing to hear him sing along with the notes of either the piano or violin.

They would often spend many hours plucking out their own made up songs, forgetting them the second after they ended. Eren hadn't always sang well, but with the help of his mother he learned to not be quite as off-key when he went to hit a particular note. Carla Jaeger had a beautiful mezzo soprano, her tinny voice carrying through their rather small home. She had also entertained guests at one of the Devereux's many parties, earning her high praise from the attendees.

As Eren was lost in his own humming, Rivaille took the opportunity to cross the room to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's waist. The sudden touch startled Eren, making his hands jerk and ring out an awkward smashing of piano keys. Resting his forehead between Eren's shoulders, Rivaille let out a small snort.

"Levi! Could you not-?! You know I'm not paying attention when I do this..." Eren chastised as he leaned forward, his hands resting on the sides of the keyboard. "God, took 3 years off my life." Rivaille only chuckled in response. He had unintentionally tickled Eren's sides in his hug, which would never not be amusing. Eren was horribly ticklish, which was taken full advantage of as often as possible.

"Shush, you're not really complaining," he breathed, standing on his toes to lean over to whisper in Eren's ear. The resulting shudder from the taller boy was satisfactory, and he pulled away, his hand reaching out to pick a few notes from the keys. It was still fairly early early in the afternoon, being about three-thirty in the afternoon. There were a few hours left before Eren would need to be sent home, and he planned to take full advantage of their free time.

"I've been working on a new piece and I would favor your opinion, Eren," he spoke softly, closing the lid gently over the piano keys. The slight hum of the piano strings was the only sound in the room for a brief moment before a large smile broke across Eren's face, his hand reaching out to grasp the other's upper arm.

"Really?! I'd love to! Can we go now?"

The volume of his excited voice was grating, but it had become tolerable over the years. It was refreshing that Eren was so expressive, his emotions proudly worn on his sleeves. It left no room for misunderstanding and you always knew where you stood with him. It was just like an excitable child, which to be honest was not too far fetched. Eren would no doubt be much more wild without Rivaille's tutelage and exorbitant efforts at refinement. Giving a small laugh under his breath at Eren's enthusiasm, he beckoned with his other hand, turning on his heel and making his way to a side door that would lead to his room.

Eren followed eagerly, tripping slightly over his own feet. Their footsteps filled the companionable silence as they made their way down a rather plainly decorated hall. Plainly in the sense that it was still quite noble looking, though it was a private section of the house not meant to impress guests. The same dark wood that was throughout the house was not present here, instead being replaced by a lighter oak. Fine details had been carved in to the moulding, many vases and paintings lining the walls. The types of paintings in this hall ranged from still-life to at least one family portrait from when Rivaille was an infant. Those had always been Eren's favorite, as he enjoyed making fun of the other man's extremely fat baby cheeks and long eyelashes. It was a constant struggle to maintain some form of masculinity when he was picked on, and having long hair certainly did not help this at all. Rivaille kept long hair to be trendy; Eren kept long hair to be lazy. If that did not show the difference between them, then you haven't been paying attention.

As they approached an intricately carved door at the end of the hall, Rivaille reached out and turned the gilded handle, stepping aside to let Eren inside before closing it behind himself. Contrary to popular belief, Rivaille was not as stark as his personality set him up to be. He enjoyed minimal richness, though his room was still quite tasteful. A few tapestries hung on his walls, gifts from many of his father's business associates, their threads spun from the finest silks. A four-poster bed was placed to the left side of the room, the coverings a deep aubergine with gold embroidery. The general color scheme was jewel tones, though there were bright pieces of art, and even a few swords for fencing hung over a small vanity desk opposite the bed. The corner of the room was curved with double doors leading out to a small private balcony.

This particular corner of the house faced west, and in the late afternoon the walls were painted with the color of the sunset. The golden threads of the tapestries would glow and the swords on the wall would glint. Rivaille Devereux was peculiar in the sense that he had many small crystals hanging from his ceiling to catch the afternoon sunlight. It cast many rainbows on the walls and it was Eren's favorite part of the entire room. Nobody else he had ever known had done anything quite like it, and it only added to the unique mystery of the other man. The sun would begin its descent in about forty minutes, as it was still just too high to come in though the doors.

As Eren occupied himself with finding a seat on the end of the rather large bed, Rivaille rummaged through some papers in his desk drawer before procuring a small stack. A music stand was pulled out from beside the desk, papers being arranged in a collated form. Once his papers were arranged, he unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt, rolling them up above his elbows.

"Levi, are you playing me an opera? That's a lot of papers for just one song," Eren questioned, breaking the silence between them. Rivaille spared him a glance through his bangs before resuming his task. It's not as if he didn't know his own work, though this was more for the timing.

"Brat, this is months of work all laid out on paper. Shame on you for your sass," he chided, carefully picking up his violin and bow to check the tuning. "Perhaps I won't show this to you. After all, you will be the first person to hear it before the king-"

"No, I'm sorry!" Eren exclaimed, waving his hand in front of himself. "I want to hear it! I've got nothing but time for you!" At that admission, Rivaille paused in his tuning, the smallest of smiles turning the corner of his lips. When the words caught up to him, Eren blushed, shoulders slouching in mild embarrassment.

"I-... I just meant, you know, it's not a trouble to listen to your playing, I mean... Ah, damn," he stumbled, face hot as he sat feeling awkward. It was difficult at times to reign in his flaring emotions and outbursts, and he internally chastised himself. Above all else, he wanted to try and maintain some level of tact when he was with the person of his affections.

As he was lost in his musings, Rivaille began to play, the shrill opening notes of his song ringing out through the emptiness of the room. Eren was pulled from his thoughts as his focus came back to the man in front of him. The expression the violinist wore was one of complete focus and serenity, and Eren sighed, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, elbow resting on his knee. It was never hard for Eren to be completely drawn in by the music he heard, and the longer he listened, the more a goofy smile spread across his face.

The tempo would pick up for a few measures, then slow back down and drop lower the more the song progressed. It was interesting in the way that it was not like the other songs Eren had heard before, which were usually upbeat and fast paced. This came as a constant surprise to many as Rivaille spent most of his time not socializing much in public, and only speaking when spoken to. This had earned him a reputation of being cold, though he was far from it. Around Eren, he talked quite a lot, and even joked frequently. It had long been accepted by the younger boy that Rivaille was selectively social, and for all the years they had known each other, Eren was still favored above all others for this selective sociability. And he was quite proud of this fact.

As he watched the other man play, Eren took note of everything from the half-lidded expression on his face to the way his forearm muscles flexed with every movement. It truly was like watching a dance for one with the way Rivaille swayed his upper body, his head tilted to hold his instrument in place gently against his cheek. Giving a small sigh, Eren shifted his position, moving his hands behind him to lean backwards. He sat that way for a good twenty minutes, lost in his own thoughts. Focusing his attention not so much on the music and instead on the musician himself took his mind to places that flustered him. One hand came to grasp the key around his neck, his fingers running over the cool metal.

' _I should tell him... What should I say? He gave me this, and yet... Ah, I'm so bad with words I don't want to sound like an idiot._ '

One last low note was drawn from the violin before Rivaille pulled his bow away, resting his arms at his sides for a few moments. He looked up expectantly, a small smile on his face, but Eren did not seem to notice; his attention was turned to the window, a pout on his lips. Laughing quietly to himself, Rivaille set his violin and bow down on his desk, making sure they would not fall before he quietly stepped around his music stand.

"Eren."

Jumping slightly at his name, Eren whipped his head around, just seeming to realize the music was finished. Rivaille stood in front of him, one hand on his hip as he gazed in mild amusement downwards.

"Levi, I... Uh..." Eren opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find words.

"I would have sincerely hoped you'd have learned something after all these years, such as how to pay attention," Rivaille chastised, feeling a bit of satisfaction when Eren slouched back sheepishly. His left hand was still grasping the key around his neck, and his grip tightened ever so slightly as he felt his face get hot.

' _Nice going, dumkopf. Not even paying attention._ '

Rolling his eyes, Rivaille sat beside him, his hands moving back for him to lean on. One hand brushed over Eren's, which caused the other to jump slightly in surprise. Eren turned his gaze, though Rivaille chose instead to stare up at his ceiling.

"What did you think of the piece, brat?" he asked quietly, his hand tightening its grip on the other's. From the way the sun was beginning to set, there were a few beams coming in to the room, catching the lowest crystals hanging from the ceiling.

"Wha-...Oh! Right, yea, it was great! I mean, it's different than your other pieces. This one seemed more..." Eren trailed off, his face scrunching in thought for a few seconds. "It wasn't as upbeat as your others. Why is that?"

Rivaille shrugged. "I wanted to try on something minor key for once. Why does it matter? Does it dull your sunshine?" he asked, sarcasm laced in his tone. Eren scoffed.

"No! I just..." he started, mulling over his words for a second. "Your music is always so happy and when your music is happy, it makes me think you're happy. So, I mean... When your music sounds sad, it makes me think maybe you're sad? Ah, I don't know," Eren grumbled, his brows furrowing.

Rivaille turned his attention to the other, amused that Eren would not only think of something so deep and meaningful, but also so very stupid. "How could I possibly be sad, Eren? It's anyone's guess why, but you make me happy," his tone was soft, betraying his inner turmoil. Not much could get under his skin the way Eren seemed to with ease, and it was severely unnerving. As much as he was looking forward to this month-long excursion, he knew Eren would be set to a fit the second he left. It was always like coming home to a puppy, as the day he was due back he could always expect Eren to be at the front gate of their property, anxiously awaiting their carriage and chasing it down the lane to their house.

There was a small, light thud as Eren let go of his key and it hit against his chest, his head turning to face the other male. His expression looked both excited and troubled, as if he was unsure that he heard correctly.

"I make you happy?" he murmured, looking for all the world like Christmas had come early. His hand that had been fidgeting with his key took a turn to rub at the back of his neck, disturbing the small ponytail of hair.

"Don't be ridiculous, you know I don't enjoy repeating myself. I believed I had made my intentions clear, but I severely mis-judged your thickheadedness."

At that, Eren looked mildly offended, but smiled despite it. The warmth of his smile twisted Rivaille's stomach in quite uncomfortable knots as he was still not accustomed to the way Eren could work his nerves. Clearing his throat, Rivaille reached forward to gently grab the key around the boy's neck, rolling it in his fingers.

"Imbécile," he said quietly, giving a half smirk. "Have you not read what this says? Certainly not, or you'd have realized by now what is going on."

At that admission, Eren looked confused. Reaching back behind his neck with both hands, he untied the cord that held the key securely, letting the smooth leather slip through his fingers until the end. It was too short to see when it was tied, and Eren turned his upper body slightly to catch the incoming suns rays from behind him. It had set enough that there were more reflections from the crystals above them on the walls.

His eyes squinted slightly and his nose wrinkled at the inscribing that he had not taken notice of before, mouthing out the words before his eyes widened significantly, a small, audible "oh!" leaving his lips as he stared.

"Mon amour. Ma vie. Mon toujours," Rivaille murmured, his hands grasping the material of his pant legs to keep them still. "Eren, I- oof!"

He was abruptly cut off by Eren suddenly lurching forward and throwing his arms around his neck, effectively knocking the wind from him. Coughing briefly, it took Rivaille a few seconds to catch up with the fact that Eren was hugging him. Upon this realization, his arms immediately snaked around Eren's waist, pulling him a bit closer, turning his head to the side to press his cheek to Eren's neck.

Though some part of him deep inside was slightly miffed that Eren had just now realized what was on his gift, another, larger part of him realized that was entirely just like Eren to miss a small detail and be happy with whatever shred of happiness he found and obsess about it.

A muffled voice broke through their small silence, Eren's voice dim due to his face being pressed into fabric.

"What?"

Turning his face to the side, the smile spread across Eren's face nearly reached his ears. He didn't break their hug, but the pure joy on his face made Rivaille's breath hitch, his heart speeding up at the sudden proximity of their faces.

"Ich liebe dich," Eren breathed, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Time froze.

This boy- no, this young man that he had mentored and grown rather fond of had given him the words he himself was too embarrassed to say first, and quite honestly he was ill-prepared for this admission, Yes, he felt intense feelings that went beyond friendship, but what business did he really have trying this with Eren? Despite heavily popular public opinion that he was a suave individual who was like a prince in the eyes of the ladies, in all honesty he was completely base emotionally besides generic table manners.

"Levi?"

The soft voice broke him from his inner monologue, and upon realizing he had been staring wide-eyed at Eren, his mouth slightly agape in a half smile. Shaking his head and clearing his throat, Rivaille felt his face get mildly too warm for his comfort. "I apologize, Eren. That just... You caught me off guard."

At that, Eren's expression of happiness melted to mild confusion. Quickly realizing that his words could be interpreted wrongly, Rivaille rushed to clarify himself.

"I just meant I wasn't expecting to hear that from you today,"

' _Or ever._ '

"That's honestly more than I could have asked for, actually," his tone softened as his hands moved from Eren's waist to gently cup his face, a thumb lightly brushing across his cheek. The pulse he could faintly feel under his little finger was racing, Eren's cheeks still flushed the slightest hint of pink. Once again he was acutely aware of their proximity. At this distance, Rivaille could clearly see truly how green Eren's eyes were, the slightest hint of gold glistening around his pupils. Some of the sunlight had reflected off of the mirror hanging above his desk, which was angled in a way that it shed some light on Eren's face, igniting his eyes in a way that was simply beautiful.

"Je t'aime aussi, Eren."

The words slid out from his lips in a whisper, breath ghosting out in a small puff of warm air. Eren's eyes widened ever so slightly, his breath audibly hitching. At this point Rivaille's nerves were beginning to get the better of him, despite all his will power telling him to think things through and not be so brash. Every fiber of his being was saying to just wait and assess the situation and not be guided by raw emotion. Logic and reasoning were giving him very weak reasons to not lean forward slightly, to not use his hands to tilt Eren's face to the side. This was truly what he had been longing for, and the sudden shift in Eren's expression from shock to heated curiosity and barely hidden desire was the silent permission he took before pressing their lips softly together, a soft sigh escaping from both of them at the contact.

Eyes slid shut for both parties, Rivaille's hands still cradling Eren's face as Eren's hands came up to gently grip Rivaille's wrists. Their first kiss was chaste and electric and warm, both awkward and unsure as they pulled slightly away after a few seconds, looking at each other with half lidded expressions. It was a tense moment of uncertainty, neither wanting to break the moment or speak.

Eren took the initiative to lean forward once more, his hands moving around Rivaille's neck, one hand cupping the back of his head and tangling in his dark tresses to press them closer. The sudden aggressiveness of it startled the older boy a bit, as truthfully he wasn't expecting a kiss, much less Eren to be so fervent. There were no complaints, however. Their second kiss was full of more emotion as both were actively engaged in the feeling, taking in everything.

Rivaille took in the way Eren's slightly chapped lips felt as they moved against his, the slightly earthy scent Eren had giving him reason to breathe in deeper through his nose. Hands moved from Eren's face to grip lightly at the shirt on his back, pulling him closer. Their heart beats were both racing, fueled by their sudden proximity and new sensations that neither had experienced before.

Eren's hands had tugged the ribbon tying back Rivaille's hair loose, letting his fingers glide through the strands which is something he had always wanted to do. It felt like silk as he bunched his hand in it, being more aggressive than he intended. Every nerve in his body had been set on fire the second Rivaille had touched his face, and trying to make any sense of all of these feelings and emotions was impossible. Eren focused on just being here, in this moment, taking in every sight, sound, smell and feeling he could get.

Pulling away, Eren gasped in a breath, his lips red and glistening, entire face pink. Rivaille wasn't much different, his hair disheveled from Eren's hands. Both were breathing heavily, their chests heaving as they gulped in air. Moving to rest their foreheads together, Rivaille removed his hands from the grip they had on Eren's shirt, not paying any mind to the fact that it was most likely severely wrinkled, and moved them back to Eren's now hot cheeks.

"Eren," he panted, voice raw and slightly hoarse before he cleared his throat. Their eyes met, and Rivaille knew they couldn't continue this; there wasn't enough time left in the day, at least not enough to sufficiently explore what he was sure was a tumultuous happening of feelings and events.

"Eren..." he tried again, keeping his voice soft as their eyes met, Rivaille's breath catching in his throat at the sight before him. The stupid lopsided grin on Eren's face was almost enough to make him lose his resolve... almost. "I know this isn't ideal, but we should pause for today,"

At that, Eren gave a slight whine in the back of his throat. "But, Levi, I just... I want to be with you," was the muttered reply.

Swallowing hard, Rivaille's thumbs absently began rubbing Eren's cheeks. "I know, brat. But that will have to wait until we have more time t-"

"N-No! I mean," Eren cut him off, eyes looking away in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean, in that way... I-I-I mean, I do! I guess, eventually, j-just..."

As Eren became more and more flustered, his face grew hotter and more red, much to Rivaille's amusement.

' _Oh_.'

He had misunderstood, but that was fine. This was fine for now, he surmised. Quite honestly this was enough emotional upheaval for one day and Rivaille couldn't wait to be alone to sort his thoughts.

"I don't want to leave, tonight. I just... Can I stay? Please? I know you're leaving in the morning, and I know this is really presumptuous of me to ask, but..." Eren trailed off, not able to meet the other's now amused gaze. In all honesty, his sudden desperation to not leave was something he couldn't put his finger on. Subconsciously, though, Eren felt he needed to stay.

“I would have thought you outgrew sleeping over here years ago, Eren.”

It had been a favorite pastime of theirs, though mostly on Eren's part, to have extended weekends of playing hide-and-seek in the estate, staying up late to gaze at stars from Rivaille's small balcony and in general burn way too many candles to stay up late and look through the endless books in the Devereux's library.

“I understand, I just... Levi, please?” The slight whine of his voice and small pout was enough to make Rivaille sigh in defeat, another small kiss being placed to Eren's forehead. Eren took this as a sign of yes, smiling again and continuing to play with Rivaille's hair. In all honesty, there were no real complaints about this.

“I'm going to assume you don't want the guest room at the end of the hall?”

Eren had only used the guest room once, and that was only after much threatening from Rivaille that if Eren so much as thought about bringing his filthy child self into his immaculate bed, he'd skin him alive. This threat was heeded all of once, and on their second sleepover, there had been a thunderstorm and Eren had snuck into Rivialle's bed. Rivaille, being an extremely light sleeper, had already woken up to the sounds of thunder and had done Eren the courtesy of pretending not to notice how he quivered under the blankets or cuddled close every time lightning flashed.

Since then, Eren had always done him the courtesy of acting like he was fine in the guest room, but they always woke up in Rivaille's room. The older boy had simply accepted this fact, though he  still grumped in the morning to Eren. Eren was what you may call an aggressive cuddler.

“So... I can stay?”

Rolling his eyes, Rivaille's hand cuffed the back of Eren's head as he stood, giving him a small 'tch' as he went to put his violin away properly, withdrawing a cloth from his pocket to wipe at the finger smudges first.

“I can't foresee you actually listening if I said no,” he said, not looking away from his instrument. “Though I do hope it causes Auruo a major inconvenience to hurry and prepare enough dinner for you, the lazy shit that he is.”

A burst of laughter was the only reply he got in return, and the sound warmed him more than he cared to admit. As the sun began to set further, both of them made move to exit the room, stealing one last quick kiss before heading out the door and down the hall towards the stairs.

*****

As they said goodbye the next morning, there was a tension in the air that was nearly tangible. Everyone had been on edge since breakfast. Olivier's sour mood was grating to everybody, especially Rivaille, who had snapped at his father for making a snide comment at Eren about his disheveled appearance, which was not much to be helped considering they had an impromptu sleepover.

As their carriage was being prepared to leave, Rivaille pulled Eren aside, away from view of the others. Eren had opted not to bother tying his hair back when he woke up, which was more than likely the reason he was commented on. Taking the opportunity to run his fingers through Eren's hair, he used his other hand to hold one of Eren's.

"I apologize for my father. He doesn't like to travel and is always irritated before we go anywhere, but that doesn't excuse him being rude to you."

Shaking his head, Eren gave him a half-smile. "It's alright, Levi. I know he's just moody. I can see where you get it from." he joked.

"Tch," Pulling Eren's head downward, Rivaille gave him a kiss that was much too chaste, a fact that Eren decided to point out with a whine. "Don't worry. I'll be back in a month's time, and we can continue this. God knows I won't be able to stop you from waiting at our gate like some puppy,"

Eren scoffed, moving to embrace Rivaille in a hug, rubbing his cheek on the top of his head. Rivaille grumbled something about messing up his hair, but Eren paid him no heed. "You know I'll be counting down the days until your sunny self returns."

"Hmf, don't piss yourself with excitement when you see me again."

"Wow way to just woo me with your romantic ways, Levi. I thought you were more eloquent than this."

"Hey! I'll have you know this is completely new to me, and I'll not have you smarting off to me, brat. It's bad enough I have to deal with my father on this trip, I don't need sass from y-"

"Rivaille! We must leave now or we'll be late," his mother called as she was being helped in to their carriage.  Clicking his tongue, Rivaille pulled away from Eren rather unwillingly and turned to wait behind his father to get in.

"À bientôt, Eren!" Amélie called out the open carriage door, giving a small wave as she sat down. Olivier climbed in after her with Rivaille following suit. Auruo shut the door behind him, nearly clipping his heels. His head poked out the window to chastise him, laughing bitterly when he tried to retort and bit his tongue. Eren himself snickered, not being the biggest fan of the man himself. A few clicks were heard from the driver and the carriage lurched forward, beginning it's descent down the lane. 

Eren ran after the carriage as Rivaille knew he would, and as the neared the end of their lane, Rivaille reached out his hand and Eren took it for one last quick hold before the carriage turned onto the main road, their hands separating. Rivaille remained partially hanging out the window and Eren stayed firmly planted at the front gate of their estate, watching after them until the carriage faded from view. It was a rather heavy feeling that settled over Eren as he turned the opposite direction to begin his own trek home, denying taking a ride from Auruo in the second carriage. It wasn't something he could specifically place, but the clouds that were looming on the horizon did nothing to appease his sense that somehow, life was about to be as stormy as the skies. 


End file.
